


Cool Dudes Have Bosses Too (The Puppeteer Remains Unseen)

by misqueme



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Basically “Everything Is Cal’s Fault”, Bro POV and some backstory, Bro sympathy, Gen, Other, Very vaguely foreshadowed Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misqueme/pseuds/misqueme
Summary: Isn’t it interesting, how the puppets move only to the whims of puppeteer?We see the man— or if it’s a staged show, we know of the man, because of course, the puppets couldn’t do much without the outside influence.But emotionally, as you’re watching the show— you’d never even think about the man behind the curtain. Each puppet is his own character. When you think about a puppets’ motivation to do something, you think about the story. You don’t think ‘he was doing what the puppeteer wants’.This is what Dirk Strider is thinking to himself as he sits on top of a crate and kicks his legs back and forth.





	Cool Dudes Have Bosses Too (The Puppeteer Remains Unseen)

Isn’t it interesting, how the puppets move by the grace of the strings holding them, and only to the whims of puppeteer?

We can see the man, he’s standing right there— or should it be a staged show, we at least know of the man, because of course, the puppets could never do what they are doing without the outside influence.

That is what we know, logically and truly, and that is what is obviously correct, when you’re thinking about it that way.

But emotionally, as you’re watching the show— you’d never even think about the man behind the curtain. Each puppet is his own character, everyone moves on their own. When you think about a puppets’ motivation to do something, you think about the story. You don’t think ‘he was doing what the puppeteer had him do’. Because the puppeteer exists outside the confines of the narrative, and therefore, out of mind.

This is what Dirk Strider is thinking to himself— at least, not in quite so many words; but the idea crosses his mind for a half second as he sits on top of a crate and kicks his legs back and forth. He’s technically hit a very philosophical tangent about the merits’ of one’s Self, but he doesn’t understand that nor does he realize what he’s thinking will ever have any relevance at all. Even now, his mind has skipped over the puppeteer and is back to thinking about puppets themselves, and specifically why they aren’t seen as “cool” in the media these days, as they rightfully should be.

Lil Cal seems to agree with him, long stuffed arms wrapped around Dirk’s neck so that the puppet can hang on his back. What a pal, Lil Cal is. What a friend.

Cal reminds the kid that it is almost time for school and Dirk nods to himself, hopping down easily. School isn’t a joke. Well, the American education system is, but school itself is necessary if Dirk ever wants a good job so he can be considered a good guardian.

Unless he got a job in puppets? There’s an idea. Puppets are awesome.

The little blonde clicks his tongue, pushing up his pointy anime shades. That is what Cal calls them, anyway, and they certainly do give off style the same way some of the nine-year-olds’ favorite shows do.

Dirk would skip on the way to school, just to complete his Japanese based illusion, but skipping is not very rad. And as the kids say these days, being un-rad is bad.

And Dirk needs to be rad! Only the raddest of dudes stand a chance at completing Cal’s instructions and helping the ascension of the world. “Ascension” means rising up. Dirks knows that because he looked it up in a dictionary.

“Only a couple more decades ‘til ascension, right, Cal?” Dirk asks, doing a cool little move with his feet. Because he is a cool little dude.

Cal confirms this, which makes Dirk exited. It’s actually about exactly two decades until ascension. That’s only two! How wonderful.

Dirk is too excited.

——

One and a half decades left.

Tick, Tock.

Time moves and it doesn’t stop.

Cal insists that what’s important now is finishing school, and finding a place. You can’t very well raise a god under bridges and in the alleys of Texas.

It’s a very good thing Dirk is not a god. He’s not that important to the ascension. Only almost.

He’s been excited for the rebirth of the world for years, but recently he’s become slightly nervous. What if he messes everything up? That’d be just like him to do.

Lil Cal reassures him that he’s doing everything right for now. Dirk isn’t sure how true that is. He hasn’t been talking to anyone— his cosmic significance is too important, and he can’t risk any action that isn’t directly helpful to Earth’s ascension.

He’s got to maintain an absolutely perfect, totally cool persona. 

Dirk recently discovered hair gel. What a gift from the gods.

Cal says work harder, because rest is for pussies, and Dirk does. He’s tired of waiting, of sitting around. He’s going to graduate EARLY, damnit.

The teachers worry a little. ‘Don’t stress yourself too much, Dirk. You’re only one man. The world doesn’t depend on your grades’.

Hardy har har. 

Making money is still a bit of an issue. Dirk knows he’s gotta come up with something original. Something that GETS him places. The pressure for inventions is on, and Dirk burns the candle at both ends for almost a month, trying to come up with something puppet-related to please Cal. Or maybe Cal can even be part of the business?

In the end, Dirk comes up with two different idea: ventriloquist rapping (with Cal, of course. Cal is an excellent rapper. He understands beats and notes perfectly, even if his lyrics sometimes are about weird things like drawing well or milk.) 

The second idea is a little odd, and less natural then a puppet rapping. Or perhaps MORE natural— just the type of thing humans would never admit to.

What’s one thing most humans have in common? Being horny.

Dirk invents Smut Puppets (later renamed Smuppets) and is the proudest fifteen-year-old in Texas for a short while.

He high-fives his favorite puppet (Cal, Duh!) and then amends it to a fist bump, because cool dudes don’t high five anymore.

Being cool is the number-one-priority now. What’s cooler then helping along the ascension of the universe? Um, rapping with your puppet best friend, of course!

Man, it sure would suck if Dirk hadn’t grown up with Lil’ Cal.

————

It’s Time, Dirk realizes, and opens the door of his top-floor apartment. It took a while, but Smuppets gained enough traction in the past few years that Dirk could afford a one-bedroom place.

Today is the day. Dirk sets his hat on his head (He’s started wearing hats, lately— they protect from the sun, and what cool dude doesn’t wear hats) and pushes up his pointy shades.

Dirk’s not sure he’s ready to become a dad to the most important kid in the universe.

Actually, amend that statement, he KNOWS he’s not ready. And yet Cal urges him along, he’s GOT to be there when it happens.

Dirk skips down the stairs because the elevator is broken again, running his fingerless gloves along the railing and hurrying as fast as he can go. In the end, he’s a little bit early, and stops at the edge of the soon-to-be-blast radius.

Dirk Strider curls his fingers carefully along the edge of the shades he made. They’re miniature versions of his own pointy anime glasses— perfect eye ware for a baby god, of course. Only the best.

Something feels off, though. Dirk always feels off when Cal’s not around (and he’d chosen to leave the puppet at home today, so he’d be faster). He usually assumes it’s because he misses the thing and needs it around.

But the longer he stands at the edge of an almost-crater, the more he realizes... the feeling in his chest isn’t a need to get back to Cal. It’s... it’s a heavy emotion, trying to break out of his cool dude persona.

Dirk automatically shoves it down— repression of emotions is what Cal has always taught, of course— but it bubbles back up on its own after a few seconds. There’s no puppet here to stop the thoughts that start racing through Dirk’s mind.

_God, what am I DOING, _he thinks, staring down at his feet._ I’m standing in the blast radius of a God’s birth. I’m going to raise a little time lord. Am I really okay with that?_

And as usual, without Cal, the Strider’s mind falls back to lament on his many faults. 

_I can’t be a dad, _he panics. _I— I’m not even twenty yet. I’m not ready for this. I’d be a horrible father._

In the distance, in the sky, a tiny pinprick sticks out, dark against the blue. It’s the kind of thing you would only see if you were looking, which Dirk was. He raises a hand above his head, nervously stepping back a little, clutching tight onto the tiny pair of sunglasses.

The meteor grows bigger, brighter, bigger, so big that Dirk can almost hear Cal’s voice telling him to _stand back, idiot._ So Dirk moves farther away and watches from behind the protection of his shades; as a bed-sized space rock crashes to earth right in front of him.

The rock crumbles almost immediately, billowing out in a cloud of dust. Leaving only a crater. 

Normally, Dirk would act per Cal’s instruction, but this time, it feels like pure instinct that causes him to walk forward towards the pale shapes in the center of the hole.

Dirk Strider carefully steps over the dead white pony, mildly intrigued, but moving on quickly.

And then.

He stands, transfixed, staring at the pale little baby sitting in the dirt. 

Its stark white hair is slightly mussed up from the crash-landing, and its tiny toddler hands grab at bits of rock of the ground. Its chubby baby legs are dusty from the mess, and Dirk slowly lowers into a crouch, to be closer to the baby’s height.

The small child looks up and meets Dirk’s gaze through his sunglasses. His eyes are a bright, vivid, ruby red... inhuman, and like nothing Dirk had ever seen before. He draws in a breath, and his chest constricts for some reason, and Dirk realizes he’s never felt more purely human then in this moment.

“Hey there, little man.”

Carefully, with one arm, Dirk scoops up the miracle child, staring into his carnelian gaze for another second before gently placing the tiny shades on his baby nose.

With his other arm, Dirk easily lifts up the dead pony, deciding to take it with him, since Lil Cal has never said anything about a horse and he didn’t know if he’d need it.

The baby clings to Dirk’s neck and he suddenly gets choked up, turning away. Damn. What’s with all these powerful maternal emotions and shit? This is why he needs Cal around, to give him logical thought and get rid of the dumb feelings clouding his mind.

The man shakes his head quickly, as if to clear his thoughts, and then hoists his two arms of cargo out of the meteor hole and back up to his apartment.

The god holds onto him the whole way up, and about halfway there starts quietly babbling to himself. Dirk nearly had a heart attack from the sheer overwhelming cuteness of it all, and fights with his face to keep it perfectly straight.

“Welcome to the world, Dave,” Dirk says in response to the baby’s incessant talking. Dave pauses and seems to regard this statement. Maybe he likes the name Dave? Good, since that’s the name he was always meant to have, in a paradox sort of way.

He nearly kisses the thing on the forehead, which, holy shit, major levels of uncool man! This is the kid you’re supposed to raise, not be all soft on. You gotta be rad as hell so this little man grows up to ALSO be hells of rad.

“How do you feel about that, little bro?” Dirk asks, even though Dave couldn’t actually hear his inner monologue, and the kid makes some sort of adorable baby noise.

‘Little bro’. Actually, Dirk liked the sound of that. Maybe... maybe he didn’t have to be a Dad, just yet. 

No. He wasn’t ready for that. 

But maybe... he could instead be an older brother. A rad older brother.

Dirk grins and kicks open the door to his one-bedroom apartment, the baby in his arm startling a little.

Hell yeah. He’s gonna be the best fucking older Bro to ever walk this side of the universe.

Now, where’s Cal? He’s probably got some ideas on how to raise this kid into the greatest god ever.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love me some soft Bro because I live for platonic guardian shit lmao....
> 
> Also I like to blame things on Cal because. He sucks.
> 
> PSA I am not saying all of it was Cal’s fault obviously Dirk’s obsession with ninjas, anime and smut is mostly his own fault U-U


End file.
